


The Campfire

by Laura Luna (LauraLuthien)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: A single dream is more powerful than a thousand realities, Dreaming, Dreams vs. Reality, F/M, Fantasy vs. Reality, Is this real life or is this just fantasy?, Thorin Angst, Thorin Feels, brooding Thorin, i love thorin, reality sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:25:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6077571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LauraLuthien/pseuds/Laura%20Luna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote this after I dreamt it. It's quick and I have embellished it slightly but I just wanted to get it out of my head and write it down, I'm not asking for feedback, I just wanted to post it. :) It's hard to explain why it means so much to me but it definitely describes how I feel daily, with the cold and loneliness of reality and the cruel, depressing world we live in against the beauty and warmth of fantasy and of Middle Earth. Those who know me well enough will know how much of a Thorin fangirl I am and I miss him dearly since The Hobbit films finished with his death. :'(</p><p>I like to think that the note Thorin leaves behind in this story is for me. It is just a dream and Thorin cannot see me but he has the same longing as me.</p><p>The story is from my point of view but I do not who is Thorin is in my dream. :)</p><p>If you read this, I hope you enjoy it and thank you. :) x</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Campfire

It was a particularly cold night, the crisp and icy air cut at my skin like a thousand needles stabbing me and my face felt numb and frozen like the ground that I walked upon with bare feet.

 

I was walking through a forest, a very dark and mysterious forest, the moss and the leaves were frozen stiff beneath my feet and it felt like I was walking upon a sea of glass shards. I could barely feel my feet and used the surrounding trees to hold and steady me as I made my way through. 

 

The long limbs of the trees towered and twisted above me and cast strange shadows from the intense and luminous moonlight from the full moon that filled the cloudless sky and fireflies, so many fireflies lingered in the air above me. It was so deathly quiet, all I could hear was my own heartbeat and breath which billowed out in front of me. 

 

I feel lost, no direction, no destination, just wandering through this never ending woodland.

 

I stop against a nearby tree that had fungi growing up along it's spine and pull my fur collar around me tighter. I let the back of my head fall against the bark and look above me, the twisted and gnarly branches of the tress entwined together and hung overhead, bare of leaves, I felt like they were staring at me and thinking of me as some intruder and were planning my demise among them. I jump out of my skin as an owl takes to flight and hoots proudly off into the dark abyss of the wood.

 

Suddenly a soft chiming of music grabs my attention, I look around for the source of it but can't see anything nearby so I carry on walking in the direction of the moon and up a hill, where the trees start to get a little sparser. 

 

An orange flickering glow dances in the distance and seems to melt away the cold I feel so intensely to the core of me, I smile and breathe a sigh of relief and walk slowly towards the fire in hope of getting somewhere warm to rest for the night and maybe some food.

 

As I approach, I notice against the very intimidating moon was the silhouette of someone holding a small harp, they were sat very still and humming deeply a haunting tune, it was the voice of a man.

 

As I get closer to the figure, the heat of the campfire begins to soothe my entire body and it tingles as I start to feel my senses again so I let go of clutching my fur coat tightly around me.

 

I realize that the figure is definitely of a man, he had long, dark and curly hair with the odd strands of silver that framed his strong jawline and bearded face. He wore a long leather coat that was lined with fur and upon his feet he wore heavy, buckled boots and sat in the ground beside him was a regal looking sword and what looked like a chunk of wood with a strap tied to it. He was unaware of my presence so I stop in my track as to not startle him and just watch him for a while in awe, he sung deeply in a language that was foreign to me, it was hauntingly beautiful and full of emotion even though I did not know a word of what he was singing, it gave me tingles and goosebumps all over.

 

He pauses and puts down the harp and reaches inside his coat for his pipe and fiddles with it a long while, filling it with pipe weed. I decide to approach him as he leans over towards the fire and picks up a flame on a piece of twig and lights his pipe.

 

"Excuse me?" I ask hoarsely. He doesn't hear me so I stop and let him finish puffing on his pipe.

 

"M-may I sit with you? Just for a while, you see I'm lost and incredibly cold." Still nothing... I decide to sit across from him on the other side of the fire anyway. He hadn't even looked up at me or registered me there at all. The bulb of his pipe lit brightly as he inhaled deeply, lighting up his whole face, his eyes were like bright diamonds but seemed to be filled with so much sorrow. He looked directly at me as he exhaled but still said nothing, his face was blank and vacant and he looked away towards the moon that hung so hugely and lowly in the sky.

 

He stared out into the distance. He was beautiful, otherworldly and enchanting. I wanted to know who he was, what he was, where he came from... his story.

 

I notice a tear roll down his right cheek and he quickly wipes it away on his dark leather vambrace.

 

I stiffly get to my feet and slowly walk over to him, afraid of how he will react, he does have a sword to hand after all and I know nothing about him.

 

"What are your troubles?" I ask gently as I kneel down in front of him but still he doesn't answer me or even look at me. Can he even see me? Is he blind? Am I really here? ... Is this a _dream._

 

I reach out my hand to his cheek and wipe the tears away whilst holding his large hand with the other, he shivers, pulls his hand away and wipes his eyes. He coughs away a sob and stands up, he empties his pipe against the log he was perched on and places it back inside the inner pocket of his fur coat and then picks up his sword and places it back into the scabbard he was wearing underneath his coat. He then picks up the mysterious looking piece of wood with a leather strap attached to it and swings it onto his arm. He isn't as tall as I expected to him to be, he was just a little taller than me, bit he was very stocky and broad.

 

The man walks away from the campfire now, taking big strides, his frame rocking side to side with every step. I am still sat watching him walk away, I wanted to call him back but I knew it would be no good, he didn't want to be here. To my surprise he stops and slowly turns around and seems to stare right at me for a few seconds as if he has finally registered me but then he just carries on walking down the hill, away from the woodland until he was out of sight...

 

I sit upon the log where he had sat and rested my head in my hands, I was so confused at what had just happened and again loneliness was with me once more. On the ground next to me I see a little piece of parchment paper messily scrawled up and pick it up, it read **"Men lananubukhs menu, amrâlimê**." I stare at it for a long while trying to figure out what it could mean but it was foreign to me, I had no idea. He had forgotten his harp, I picked it up and gently strummed my fingers against it's strings, realizing that a couple of them had snapped. There were runes intricately carved into it, I couldn't understand runes either so again I just felt even more confused and lost, maybe I was in a dream. If this was a dream then I want to go back and change it. I wanted to know where I was and who he was... why was I here... weary, weary, so weary...

 

Sleepiness took over, I tried my hardest fight it off just in case the man came back but my whole body gave in and I slipped onto the soft, warm ground in front of me and fell asleep, still holding the piece of paper in my hand...

**Author's Note:**

> "Men lananubukhs menu, amrâlimê" means 'I love you, my love' in Khuzdul.


End file.
